The Third Stage?

I dreamt of you, again

I’ve only dreamt of you 3 times since you have been missing from us

Three times in fifteen months.

It surprises me that I don’t dream of you more often.

My thoughts in every waking moment are filled with you

My dreams and subconscious take a different form.

I have started to write them down, my dreams, googling what they might mean.

This dream was so vivid, filled with so many different symbols, people and colours

I can remember even the smallest of details

You were in the first part

The second part was filled with people and moments I can’t quite begin to know why they were there, I’m not sure how everything relates.

After your dad died, if you dreamt of him, I would tell you that he was visiting, trying to tell you something.

I’m not sure if this is true, and I know not many people will follow a similar train of thought, what I do know is each time I’ve dreamt of you has come at a time where I have needed you the most.

So maybe there is something in it.

You were you again, pre cancer you, pre leg, pre chemo, pre steroids, pre nightmare.

I was so lucky

Handsome bastard.

You were leaving me

It was out of the blue, I think

From what I can remember

You couldn’t give me an explanation as to why you were leaving me

Just that you were, that was that.

You were very matter of fact about it

You found the whole thing rather amusing

As you kept smiling at me

Talking to me as if this was the most reasonable thing in the world.

And I was so mad at you

Not sad, not upset, not even really shocked

Just angry.

That you could ever consider leaving us

That I would have to live without you.

Annoyed you wouldn’t listen to what I had to say

Mad that you kept grinning at me in such a stupid way!

Enough with the stupid grin!

The setting was strange, in separate cars in the car park of a place we know.

Other people were there, with other symbols and things happening that probably all mean something.

My dad trying to be peace keeper in the calm manner he has in reality.

Trying to reason with me as you passed me something, keys maybe, through the open car door.

Still with a stupid grin on your face.

The dream moved on with different people and happenings

And you had gone.

But it was ok, I felt ok when I woke up

Because you had been there.

You can never really leave me

Our lives entwined for so long

I have you, our memories, our love, locked in my heart.

I know it wasn’t about that

I have been thinking about the whole dream for a few days, trying to understand it all

Trying to piece each thing together.

Even though nothing in the dream suggests it, and I didn’t wake up feeling it, I have realised

I am angry.

I am angry with you.

For leaving me

For leaving us.

How ridiculous when none of this was your fault

I don’t blame you, not even for a second, you didn’t ask for any of this.

I am angry at this situation.

I am angry at people who do not realise how lucky they are

Or how hard this is.

I am angry this had to happen to you.

I am angry at time for always being against us, for moving me away from you.

I am angry at death, for coming too soon.

When we just were not ready

For taking people I love all at once

I am angry at grief.

For all the things it has stolen and how it makes me feel.

I am angry for you.

For all that you are missing out on

For the stolen years we should have had together

Growing older and greyer

For the times I knew you would love.

I am angry for the kids.

That they have to grow up without you

Their wonderful daddy

For the memories we make you should be a part of

For how hard they find it without you.

I am angry.

And I am allowing myself to say it, to acknowledge it, to feel it

For the first time since you left.

Giving it the respect it deserves

Being kind to myself so it doesn’t take over

Not letting bitterness eat me up inside

That is not the life for us you would have wanted.

I am angry.

But I know that you’re not, that you’ve made peace, that you’re ok

Because why else would you keep doing that stupid grin.

Posted by

30 something, married, mummy of one. Getting by on chocolate and laughter.

2 thoughts on “The Third Stage?

    1. Thanks Steph, it’s not the predominant emotion which is why I think it’s taken me til now to realise and acknowledge that it’s there bubbling underneath. I will and also that he wanted us to lead a happy life xxx

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